Under a Siena Sun (Escape to Tuscany #1) - T.A. Williams Page 0,82

but you’re even better than him. Apart from anything else, your breath smells a whole lot sweeter and you don’t pee on the plants.’

‘Erm, I might need to talk to you about that…’

The only bit of bad news that morning was that he told her he had to fly back to the States the next day for almost a week and she realised she would miss him tremendously. Still, they would have tonight, so she went off to work with a smile on her face. It remained on her face even when Charles joined her at her table at lunchtime.

‘Hi, Lucy. You’re looking tanned. Been out in the sun?’

‘I had a trip to the seaside yesterday. What about you? Cheered up since we last spoke?’

He hung his head. ‘Not really. I still feel the same way and she hasn’t changed. I didn’t realise it could be so hard.’

Lucy choked back the urge to tell him it served him right after his behaviour towards her and no doubt countless other women, but she bit her tongue. Instead, she kept the smile firmly on her face. ‘Give it time. You’ll get over it. It worked for me.’ And she returned to her ginseng.

Mid-afternoon, just as she was coming out of theatre after a fairly routine appendectomy, she was met by Bruno with a request.

‘Hi, Lucy. I don’t suppose you could do a few nights for me this week, could you?’

She thought quickly. Tonight was a definite no, but then David would be away until the following Sunday or Monday. And if she did nights while he was away, she would be able to spend more nights with him when he got back. It was a no-brainer. ‘Yes, of course. Not tonight, but any other nights this week. The whole week if you like. What’s the emergency?’

‘Not really an emergency. Virginia wants me to take her away for a few days. There’s some stuff we need to sort out.’

Lucy wondered if this might be the occasion that he finally asked Virginia to marry him and she was happy for them – even more so now that she had David. ‘Well, why don’t I do Tuesday to Saturday? Come to think of it, I might need a day or two off next month as a friend’s getting married in Avignon, so if I scratch your back…’

‘It’s a deal. Thanks a lot, Lucy.’

That evening, she insisted that David come to her house and she prepared dinner for him. Although food was secondary to what she had in mind, she stopped off at a fish shop in Siena and bought some fresh crabmeat and served it, according to one of Daniela’s mum’s recipes, mixed with grated apple and avocado, accompanied by a tomato salad made with wonderful aromatic big tomatoes from Donatello’s shop. While she was there she also bought strawberries and ice cream. If the way to a man’s heart was through his stomach, she felt sure that on a swelteringly hot night like tonight this cold spread would do the trick.

It was fortuitous that she chose to serve cold food, as the first thing she did when David appeared at her door was to give Boris a big bowl of dog biscuits, specially bought the other day when Boris and Barolo had come to dinner, while she dragged his far-from-unwilling master upstairs to her bedroom. They didn’t sit down to eat until after nine, but he didn’t complain, and neither did she. By this time Boris had made himself at home and they found him sprawled across the sofa, snoozing happily. As they came down the stairs, one eye opened and his tail started thumping lazily against the cushions.

‘Boris, dogs are meant to be on the floor, not the furniture. Shame on you.’ David wagged an admonitory finger at him but that only made the tail wag harder. Lucy was in such a good mood, she just went over and patted the Labrador’s head.

‘You stay there, Boris. It’s an old sofa anyway.’

But, needless to say, as she retrieved the food from the fridge and set it on the table, Boris conveniently forgot that he had eaten barely two hours earlier and jumped off the sofa to position himself under the table with an expectant look on his face.

As they ate, they chatted some more and she asked David something she had been thinking about for a week now.

‘David… just say no if you don’t want to, but… a good friend of mine called Nicole,